Stupid Florida. Stupid 17 hour long drive to this humid place. What was even the point? The home they had left was perfectly fine. It had all the essentials she needed; soft couch cushions, a wide perch by the window for bird watching, and endless bowls of tuna water. Sure, the dog’s bathroom routine was inconvenienced by the snow, but Ginger failed to see why that was her problem.

She sat in her annoyance, glaring out the cat carrier as her owners rolled to a stop at the new, Florida home. The dog behind her yelped in excitement to which Ginger flattened her ears and hissed. Laughs met the air, as her owners unleashed the dog to roll around in the front yard. Endless happiness oozed out of him. Each thump of his tail against the ground felt like a pounding headache to Ginger.

Her cat carrier was lifted and she met the new interior of the Florida house. There were no window sills. Unsurprisingly, Florida continued to disappoint. Her owners came to the back of the house and opened the glass, sliding door. Her carrier met a hard ground and she was free to explore. With much irritation, she stepped out of the carrier. Before she could flick her annoyed tail, she looked with large pupils at her surroundings. A large glass and ceiling stretched around her, connected to the house. She wasn’t outside but she wasn’t exactly inside either. It felt like she was in a very large window.

Ginger trotted to the glass border. She could see everything; the dry Florida grass, the birds perched on the fence, the sky above her. It was breath taking. She just needed a couch. In luck, an elongated chair sat in the corner. Jumping on the chair, she laid in it’s center. The sun radiated down, glistening through the glass room and making vast sunspots. Ginger’s orange fur glowed with warmth and she snuggled into the perfectly heated fabric. This Florida place was pretty great after all.